Follow us as we share our thoughts and experiences from the idiopathic scoliosis diagnosis in March 2014 through to surgery and recovery. As told from the perspectives of both parents and the (at time of diagnosis) 12 year old patient (and maybe even some observations from her little brother). Ontario, Canada.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

Before I had my surgery was an emotional time for me. I was both terrified and excited. Terrified that I would die in surgery, and excited that if all went well my back would be better forever. On my last day of school my whole class wore tiaras, and one of my teachers got almost all of the seniors to wear ones that they made in class. It made me feel so fantastic. You have no idea how wonderful it felt. We got a picture of my class wearing tiaras, and I've kept it as my background picture on my iPad until just recently. That picture reminds that these people care about me, even just a bit. And I care about them. I've known most of them since grade two, and some since grade five, but I've still know them long enough to be sad that this year is over. Two whole months not seeing some of them. I know that I still get to see them next year, so it's not REALLY the end but it still fells like it. Were not leaving to go to high school, but we've starting preparing. I mean, we just survived our first year as a seniors, doing different subjects in gym, new stuff at track, millions of new things that we learned in all subjects, our first year of math in English instead if in French (which by the way, makes it a lot easier to understand) , our first year with history instead of social studies, our first year starting to get points towards the award of excellence, and much more. This year has been full of good and bad things and I'm happy I got to spend it with people I did. Even the nurses and doctors were pretty nice. Thank you to everyone who's been with me on this journey, even if you didn't follow it as it happened. And I hope everything I've written (and will continue to write) has and will help you in someway as it has me.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

I want to be a kid again. Shrink me down to six and leave me there. Take me out of this age where I'm responsible for lots of things. Where I'm not little anymore. No longer a child, a kid, where I start preparing for the real world. Where everything I do matters a lot more than it used to. I hate it. I can't stand it. At first I was so excited. It was all I wanted. Now all I want is for it to be over. I wish I could have skipped it. Just gone from child to adult, so I don't have to go through this. Shrink me down to six, before I'm an actual person. At six your not quite a person yet. You don't have a personality, at least not the one you'll have for the rest if your life. At six even the most outgoing of your class is still a bit shy. At six fart is a word that makes you gasp because someone said a 'bad word'. At six everything mattered in its

own way, even if now the things that mattered then seem stupid. At six daddy could pick me up. At six I could sit on mommy's lap. At six cars seemed like a fantastic thing (aside from me getting sick in them). At six life seemed perfect. At six you can have a temper tantrum, go to your saying you hate your parents, only to come out minutes latter crying and saying sorry and that you loved them. At six you got books read to you at night. At six you slept with a night light. At six You knew, with all your heart, no Mater

what was said and done, that your parents loved you then and will love you forever. Now at times you feel like no one gets you. You want to believe that your parents will always love you but are afraid you will do something wrong. Now everything is scary. I'm afraid I'll fail school. I'm afraid I'll get fat. I'm afraid I'm too skinny. I'm afraid I'll get hill by a car. I'm afraid ill get kidnapped. I'm afraid that in high school ill smoke or take drugs. I'm REALLY scared about that last one. I don't want to be a teenager. I don't want to go to high school. I just want to be a kid again. To not be afraid to go into my parents room if I have a nightmare. To be able to walk around not worrying about what's around the corner. Or about what's ahead of me on life. To he able to snuggle up in my parents arms again. Please let me be a kid again. Please.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Yesterday at 1:30 in the afternoon I went to go get some lunch from the kitchen. I got up off the couch and walked to the kitchen. By the time I got there the head rush from standing up off the couch to quick had caught up to me. I get head rushes when I stand up too fast, and this one was really bad. I passed out, and when I could see again I was lying on the floor in horrible pain. I stood up, slowly, and walked to the phone, all the while crying my eyes out and wailing. I called my dad but got voice mail, so I left a message (As I learned later, all it sounded like was a screaming banshee). So next I called my mom. It rang for a minute, and then just went silent. No buzzing, no mom, no nothing. So I screamed and cried until I remembered that my old babysitter, Stephanie lived really close, so I called her, and she picked up. I was so relived, that for a brief second, I stopped crying. But only for a second. In my hysterics I tried to tell her what had happen. You know when your crying, but trying not to, and you start having these weird jerk pause breaths? Almost like hiccups? That was happening to me. Eventually she got it out of me that I had fallen, and came over right away. Buy the time she got here I had stopped screaming and was now just crying a lot. She helped me stop crying, and helped me get an ice pack, and then she face booked my parents that i had fallen. After a couple minutes my dad called. By then I had stopped crying, mostly, and we had figured out what was hurting. It was just a pinkish line parallel to my scar on my right side( and as we found out later, a bruised tailbone). My mom called minutes later and started to drive home right away. My dad called her and asked if when she would be home. Since Stephanie could only stay until 2:30. She said she would be home soon. And she wasn't lying. She was home by not quite two. Stephie stayed a bit longer, but then had to leave. We thanked her immensely. A short while after that my dad got home. He called the doctor and got us an appointment for today. Life went on. I was ok. This morning my mom stayed home and we went to the doctors. We got X-rays and had Subway for lunch, and than we went to the doctors. The only thing I was nervous about was not being able to go to Virginia for my moms cousins wedding. Doctor Missuna said that my X-rays were excellent, that I was fine except for a contusion (what ever that means), and that I was not allowed to drive to Virginia, but that I could be a passenger. He also cleared me to start physio and yoga. Yes!😃 when we got back to Cambridge we bought some flowers for Stephie, as that was the least we could do. It was a strange coincidence, as the flower shop lady's step daughter had just had the same surgery as me a week ago. That's all I have to say for now. I'll try to update more often. Write more latter,